


Out with the new, in with the old

by BobhasRainbowVeins



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M, PWP, darn it magic you made still small :c, porn with plot or porn without plot? I don't know, pre-serum steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-10
Updated: 2012-08-10
Packaged: 2017-11-11 19:39:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/482168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BobhasRainbowVeins/pseuds/BobhasRainbowVeins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is an accident in which Steve gets blasted with magic. His body regresses and suddenly, he's no longer Captain America, but his old scrawny self. While the effects may not be permanent, Tony has an idea of what they can both do with their time until Steve changes back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out with the new, in with the old

**Author's Note:**

> My first shot at smut in fic form. It kind of sucks. I've only ever roleplayed it, and I can rp it well, but..... I feel like I have done humanity wrong. Bleh. I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT THOUGH, SERIOUSLY. 
> 
> I made this after seeing [Floo's amazing drawing!](http://floobings.tumblr.com/post/28945787314/pre-serum-steve-tony-yes#notes) It's hard not to stare at it....it's just so great. Check out the rest of her art, or I'll have to hunt you down ;I

“ _Tony…Ah…Stop…_ ”

“ _I’ll stop if you really want me to._ ”

“ _…._ ”

“ _Yeah. Thought so._ ” 

\--

It all started with a hint of magic. Steve hadn’t had enough time to put his shield up, caught completely off guard, and he was struck by a flash of light. After being hit, he passed out and the other avengers took care of the attacker before taking the captain back to their tower.

Steve awoke to mildly concerned faces hovering above him. His uniform felt oddly loose and his bones felt weary. When he inquired as to what had happened, Tony happily volunteered to explain.

“Well, Cap—uh, Steve. We were fightin’ the bad guys and you got hit. Unfortunately, you were hit by _magic_ and don’t appear to be…Captain America… at the moment.”

He wanted to ask what his teammate meant by that, but he was struck by a feeling of horror, nausea entering his guy. The way his body felt so light, the way it felt harder to breathe, the way his fingers cracked just from flexing them. He could _feel_ it.

Steve scrambled upwards, pushing at arms and bodies in a frantic search. “Mirror! I need a mirror!”

“You could have just asked,” Tony replied from behind him. He whipped around and grabbed the shard of glass from Tony’s hand, shoving it up to his own face.

He found himself staring at a skeleton. He’d already known, though, as the fact that he was now the shortest person in the room vaguely registered in his mind. He was no longer Steve Rogers, Captain America. He was Steve Rogers, the scrawny kid from Brooklyn.

A sudden fear over took him, and Steve looked up, his eyes searching faces. Much to his relief, no one was laughing nor did anyone seem to find the situation hilarious. Then again, Cling and Natasha, maybe even Tony, had probably seen a picture of him in his S.H.I.E.L.D. file. Everyone but Bruce didn’t look surprised…wait.

Steve’s eyes wandered curiously. “Guys…Where’s Bruce?”

“He is in the lab analyzing the gun you were shot with. He’s looking for a cure, and so far all we know is that this—“ Tony motioned to Steve’s being “—is not permanent. It’ll most likely wear off before a cure is found, so don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

Steve tried not to worry the entire day, he really tried, but it just felt so weird to walk around in clothes that hung off of him awkwardly. The world around him seemed so much bigger, too. But despite everything, he kept on as if nothing had happened. No one treated him differently, which made things easier. No one, that is, except Tony.

He could practically feel the jokes and nicknames dancing on the tip of the other’s tongue, waiting to come out. Not only that, but Tony wouldn’t stop staring at him in a way that made him feel uncomfortable. All Steve could do was sigh and pretend not to notice.

\--

Maybe it was because of his years as a playboy, it had to be. Of all the things he could be thinking, his thoughts would not get out of the gutter. Tony couldn’t stop thinking of his hands running down that slim body, down those delicate limbs. As inappropriate as it was, he just wanted to…

“…uck him…”

“What was that?” Steve looked up from the papers he had skewed all over the kitchen table, setting the pen he held in his hand down on top of them.

Tony blinked owlishly at him, realizing he’d accidentally spoken his thoughts aloud. “Uhh…”

Much to his shock and dismay, a dark blush spread on Steve’s face, tinting the tips of his ears pink. He ducked his head and rubbed his neck, not meeting Tony’s gaze. “Jeez Tony…you’re always so _lewd_. I mean, your thoughts are your own…still, is now really the time for that? Would you really want to do… _that_ …while I’m like this?” Steve’s voice held his insecurities, but not a hint of anger or disgust.

Tony began looking everywhere but at Steve. “Whaaaat? How do you know that I’m thinking about you, huh?”

Steve shook his head slowly and sighed. “I would say it was just a lucky guess, but you’ve been staring at me for the past 20 minutes.”

He froze, and finally his eyes met Steve’s. If one thing about his appearance hadn’t changed, it would be his eyes. They were the same sharp sky blue that he’d fallen for, and Tony easily found himself lost in them. “Oh…”

Steve blinked and sighed again before picking up the pen he’d been writing with and nibbling on the end bashfully. As if he couldn’t get any cuter.

“Well, Tony…if you really want to, we can. I’m not opposed to the idea. I don’t understand why you’d want me while I’m like this, though…”

There it was, the insecurity. Tony had half a mind to just bend Steve over the table and fuck him right then and there, but the kitchen was right next to the living room where Clint was watching TV, and he’d had his fair shares of eyefuls and earfuls before. Poor guy. So, instead, he scratched his beard in thought for a few moments before standing up and offering Steve his hand.

“Come to bed with me.”

How Steve broke neither his pen nor his teeth from clenching down on that pen so hard, he’ll never know.

\--

“Stop…” Steve’s voice came out as little more than a fragile whimper. He wrapped his arms tighter around Tony’s neck and allowed his toes to curl in on themselves. It was so surreal, the sensations he was feeling, almost as if they were enhanced in his natural state. Part of him was afraid, though, that he would break, because the old Steve Rogers was known for being feeble.

His thoughts were shattered by a chuckle as well as the warm breath and prickly hairs assaulting his ear. He felt Tony move inside him, just the tiniest of thrusts had Steve throwing his head back against the wall and letting out a choked moan. Tony chuckled once more before whispering, “I’ll stop if you really want me to.” However, as if to make up his mind for him, the billionaire ground his hips and snapped them upward several times in a row before stilling again. Steve wasn’t going to win.

Everything in his mind was fogged over and he could think of little else other than Tony. Tony Tony Tony. Tony was like a drug, definitely one that he couldn’t stop taking. So, Steve waited for something, anything, but it took several moments for him to realize that Tony was waiting for an answer. _Well fine, two can play at this game_ , he thought, before he pulled the other man in closer to him with his legs, clenching around the warm bulk inside him.

His actions were well-received, and the response he got was a grunt followed by a heavy sigh. “Heh, yeah, thought so,” Tony murmured, his voice, his voice audibly strained. His legs were shaking from the added pressure, Steve noted with satisfaction. And, not that he was always the one to take Tony, but he enjoyed being in control; it was what he was used to. What he was _not_ used to was Tony taking advantage of his smaller, weaker state. Not that Steve minded. He tried to convince himself that he minded, but the voice of reason in his head had taken a vacation far down south along with sense and everything else.

Speaking of down south, a hand that Tony had originally placed on Steve’s hip slid to the inside of his thigh before grasping his neglected erection. Steve gasped at the feeling of Tony’s thumb massaging the head, callused fingers slowly sliding up and down, squeezing gently every now and again. Once his hand got a rhythm, the rest of his body followed, thrusting up in time with the pumping of his fist. Steve could do little more than babble incoherently in an attempt to relay the fact that he wouldn’t be able to make it very long if Tony kept this up. Tony, however, was relentless.

They both were trembling at that point, bodies sharing heat as they slid up against each other, sweat making for an easier glide. Steve couldn’t help but tuck his face into the crook of Tony’s neck, humming with each wave of pleasure that overtook him. He felt teeth graze his ear and –oh, his vision went white as Tony reached his prostate. His breath hitched and a needy whine slipped out of him. Tony got the message.

Sounds in the room grew louder and more intense; the slapping of skin against skin, the grunts, the cries. Nearly each thrust pushed against that sensitive tissue inside of Steve’s body and he was quickly losing what little control he had left, if he’d had any to begin with. It was then that he startled both Tony and himself as he begun to laugh. Tony looked at him with bewildered, wide-blown eyes, obviously confused.

“Y’know…Tony…w-we never did make it to the bed…” Steve stuttered, managing to find pieces of his voice and form words, despite his brain being thoroughly fried.

Tony stilled and hung his head, making a sound as if he were choking. He whispered something into Steve’s shoulder, and those words took his breath away. “…’re…dorable…”

“What?”

“You’re adorable,” Tony groaned, his hips bucking involuntarily. Steve pushed down against of him, his blue eyes completely unfocused.

“Say it again.”

“You’re adorable.”

“Again!” At this point, Steve’s voice hitched and he could feel his muscles clenching tighter and tighter as his orgasm crept up on him.

“You’re—you’re so fucking adorable, Steve. And I…” Tony’s voice faded away for a moment, leaving Steve room to ask the million dollar question.

“And you’re what?”

“…I’m so madly in love with you,” Tony murmured, sounding so soft and firm at the same time, his words holding much depth.

It was enough to send Steve tumbling over the edge, smashing their lips together. Both of Tony’s hands found their way to his hips and he pulled him down hard, bringing himself to an orgasm as Steve rode out his own. They were so in sync with each other and completely blissed out, so much so that the only things that surrounded them were white walls, white everything.

Once Tony could feel his legs again, he moved them both to the bed where they spooned up against each other, his chest against Steve’s back. His dark eyes traced a bruise on Steve’s shoulder blade, from when they’d first gotten into the bedroom and he’d practically thrown the poor man against the wall in an intense makeout session. Then there was a hickey peaking just over the top of Steve’s collarbone; he was always proud of the love marks he made and where he made them, it was a way of marking which Tony happened to find incredibly hot. There was nothing like getting coffee in the morning and watching a half naked hunk of man walk in with bruises _he made_ standing out brightly against pale  
skin.

He figured Steve had long since fallen asleep, but he didn’t really care since his eyelids were beginning to droop with the same idea. _Sleep_. Unfortunately, his mind was still racing though his thoughts were scrambled. So, he thought of Steve. Tony couldn’t help but wonder, as he traced small circles on Steve’s shoulder with his finger, if the bruises would still show in the morning. He also wondered if Steve would be the same, or if perhaps he would return to being his muscular captain self, not that Tony had a problem with that. Not at all. He just couldn’t help but wonder such trivial things as his brain slowly shut off and he was finally out like a light.

\--

Tony woke with his arm wrapped firmly around Steve’s waist, the tip of his nose poking a rather broad shoulder. Steve must’ve changed back to normal somewhere in his deep slumber, not that he’d expected anything different. Perhaps a small part of him wished that Steve would stay smaller for longer. Tony chose to ignore that part of himself for the moment and stretched his tired muscles, smirking with satisfaction at the pops and cracks his joints made. In front of him, Steve shifted, turning himself around to face Tony. A small smile grew on his face as blue eyes met brown, and Steve dove forward to pepper the bridge of Tony’s nose with a kiss. 

“So…last night was something, huh.” Tony said nonchalantly, staring at the blank wall behind Steve’s head.

Steve simply chuckled and sighed, the smile on his face so pure and raw that it caused a fluttering in Tony’s chest.

“Thank you, Tony.”

“Wait, thank me for what?”

_Thank you for loving me, even when no one, not even I, could._

**Author's Note:**

> I really like the last line. Just saying.
> 
> Because I feel like it would mean a lot to Steve to know that Tony loves him no matter what he looks like, or even if he isn't Captain America. 
> 
> Steve's not an over-sensitive little girl, but I still think he has his own insecurities.


End file.
